Not the Only Monster in the Mirror
by Yodeling Prospector
Summary: When Loki falls into the void, he expects to die. Instead, Bruce Banner finds a starved, damaged, catatonic man in the streets while on the run.
1. Chapter 1

**I got bitten by a plot bunny, and this is mostly just a test chapter to see if people are interested in this.**

 **I don't know why I like writing stories about damaged!Loki so much...**

 _Loki stares up at Odin, and lets go of Gungnir, falling into the void, which soon swallows him up in its darkness._

 _He knows now, why Fath- no, Odin is_ not _his father- always preferred Thor. He'd never have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne. The only reason he took a monster like Loki in was for political gain with Jotunheim._

 _Monster, monster, monster, monster. He's the monster parents tell their children about at night, that he had nightmares about as a child._

 _Loki doesn't know how long he spends screaming in the void, but he doesn't die like he'd planned, not even as his body wastes away._

 _He longs for death as the void tears his mind apart._

* * *

There's commotion in the narrow roads of Kolkata as Bruce heads home at the end of the day. A car horn blares, followed by shouting, and he keeps walking, trying to shut it out. This is exactly the kind of thing Bruce actively tries to avoid, because shouting and stress are very likely to bring out the Other Guy.

He's managed to go around a hundred and seventy days since the last appearance of the Other Guy, and he really doesn't want to mess that up and go back to zero days since the last incident. If he sticks around, he may very well have a setback like that.

But right now, life is the best it's been for him in the past several years, which isn't exactly saying much considering he's spent who knows how long being hunted like a dog by Ross and the military.

Surprisingly, they've stayed off Bruce's back long enough for him to get some semblance of control over his life. In this thankfully Hulk-less time, he's managed to settle here in Kolkata, working as a doctor. He's technically not the kind of doctor he's working as now, but has picked up enough medical care to act as one for the people here. Bruce has always been a fast learner, both with medical care and, in his old life, science- especially nuclear physics and biochemistry.

There's no use thinking about his old life. And at least he's doing something good with his current life, helping people. It makes him feel a little bit less like the monster he can become at any moment.

Bruce even has enough money nowadays for a place of his own. A small place, granted, but it's infinitely better than sleeping on the streets. He's done that on more than one occasion while on the run, and he's slept in forests as well when trying to avoid being captured by the military.

It's nice, having a roof over his head, and having more than just the clothes on his back (and usually after the Other Guy came out, he didn't even have those anymore).

So when he hears the screaming in the street, Bruce tenses. He's still probably rightfully paranoid about the military showing up. But no, he should _not_ be tense right now, it's the last thing anybody- especially Bruce himself- needs.

Given Murphy's Law, Bruce's life is probably going to go downhill soon, especially if the Other Guy makes an appearance. Hopefully that won't be now. He's kind of used to his life hitting rock bottom ever since that failed experiment, but he's not at rock bottom now and certainly doesn't want to fall down there again.

Bruce forces himself to take slow, deep breaths, planning to get out of here, but keeps his eyes open.

He doesn't see Ross' men anywhere, thankfully, but he should still probably get somewhere calmer. He was heading to his home anyways.

Even as he starts to walk away, he catches sight of what seems to have caused the commotion. Some kind of bundle is half hidden under a car, presumably the one that had blared its horn and evidently ran the thing over. There's a lot of black leather, some sort of green blanket, and some weird, gold pieces that look more like metal.

Bruce is about to breathe a sigh of relief, but then he realizes what the form is and his pulse spikes, heart racing. "Oh my god..."

It's not some weird bundle at all.

Or, it is, but there's a _person_ laying prone in the bundle, curled in the fetal position, in the middle of the street, with their left arm and both knees still under the car's front right tire.

As Bruce hesitates, trying to calm down and begging that the Other Guy won't take charge, he knows he can't just leave the person. Throwing caution into the wind, he slowly approaches. The traffic on the very narrow street has stopped, even the pedestrians and bikers, and most are staring at the scene.

Despite the length of his long, lank, greasy raven hair, the person is indisputably a man. It soon becomes clear that the bundles are really the man's clothes.

He's mostly dressed in black leather. What was he even thinking, wearing that garb in this sort of heat?! It's completely insane! Plus, the clothes look very, well, _different_ , something some of the onlookers are muttering about. There are bits of golden armor, and the green blanket appears to be a cape. Definitely not the kind of outfit Bruce would expect to see here, or anywhere aside from, maybe, the set of _Lord of the Rings._

Bending down, Bruce only half listens to the car's driver's rant in Hindi (and Bruce's grasp of the language isn't enough to completely figure out all the angry comments). He gets the gist, and the driver is saying that the man had come out of nowhere.

"Did he fall?" Bruce asks in Hindi, which he's managed to partially pick up during his time here. He figures the man had probably just fallen suddenly in front of the car before the driver could stop, but the driver repeats that the man came out of nowhere, as if literally popping out of thin air (unless they're some kind of miscommunication here, which Bruce won't rule out).

Bruce turns his attention to more important matters, the man.

The man looks like he'd come straight out of hell.

Bruce's pressure spikes just a bit more with what he sees, and he forces himself to take deep breaths, relax, and view this situation with a detached, clinical eye. Getting emotional never helps with this sort of thing, and it's especially bad when Bruce is the one getting emotional.

He's obviously not a native here, just like Bruce himself, although this guy is even paler than Bruce. The man's skin is so pale that it's almost the color of paper and shiny with an almost continuous layer of sweat, making him look like he's made of porcelain. His cheekbones are extremely sunken.

He's clearly been starved. His bizarre leather clothes hang off his morbidly thin frame so much that they barely look like they ever would have fit him. His legs look even longer since they're stick-thin under the leather.

The man's green eyes are as vacant as a corpse's, open but unseeing and glassy, focused on nothing.

By his appearance, his starved state, the man may have even been dead before he got run over by the car. It would probably be a mercy if he'd been already gone, although life clearly hasn't been merciful to this man.

This man's fate makes the past few years of Bruce's life look like a picnic.

Bruce debates about what to do. There's no helping the dead.

Whoever this man was doesn't really deserve to have his body just left in the street like this to be crushed under even more car tires or stepped over by pedestrians. But what would Bruce even do with the body after getting it out of the street? If he dragged it off somewhere to bury it, people would probably think he murdered the man and was trying to hide the evidence.

Bruce thinks he sees a tiny movement under the chest, under the weird golden armor, and shakes his head. No, he's just imagining things. He's tired, after all.

But then, the man inhales, an unmistakable but shaky breath that sounds like a discount Darth Vader. The armor definitely puffs out a bit as he inhales.

Bruce blinks, massaging his temples, and watches as the man slowly exhales, making the armor fall sounding even more like Darth Vader. He doesn't make a move to try and free his left arm or knees from under the car tire, although he probably lacks the energy to do even that.

His eyes are still completely vacant, his mind a far way away. Assuming he hasn't lost it entirely.

Bruce tries to think of something more productive than repeatedly wondering _how in the world is this man alive?!_

 **Well, there you go. I honestly have no idea where I'm going with this, but I know I'm not abandoning my other story.**

 **I'm really bad at juggling stories, so I have no idea how long it will take me to update this.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm struggling a bit with my next chapter of 'Finally Belonging', but I managed to bang this out in the past two days. Granted, this is a lot shorter than my chapters in that story, but still.**

Well, this man being alive, by seemingly impossible odds, changes everything, Bruce thinks. The man doesn't need a funeral now, he needs a doctor. The car may have run over "John's" ribs, before stopping while crushing his left arm and knees. Hopefully any broken ribs didn't puncture something vital and cause internal bleeding.

Actually, a funeral doesn't exactly seem out of the question for this unfortunate man's future.

Bruce finds himself calling the man "John" in his head, because John Doe- or variations, such as Jane or Johnny Doe, depending on the person's gender or age- is the generic name given to anonymous people back in the U.S., whether they be purposely kept anonymous in court, unconscious patients who are unable to give their name in hospitals, or in the worst case, unidentified corpses.

Or unconscious corpse-like people in the middle of the street, although Bruce is on the other side of the world from the U.S.

"We need to lift the-" Bruce doesn't actually know the Hindi word for _car,_ so he just gestures towards the offending vehicle that's crushing the man, making lifting motions just in case he said something wrong. He'd almost forgotten to speak in Hindi in the first place, and had actually started the sentence in English. Some of the people here understand it, but with random passerby's like now, he doesn't know if he'll be understood.

He vaguely hears the driver continuing to say that the man had simply appeared, and some of the other onlookers are mentioning that they hadn't seen this mysterious man anywhere before the incident. Bruce tunes them out and returns to more important matters.

They're definitely going to have to get him out from under the car. Ordinarily, it would be preferable to have a crane lift the car up, since rolling the car off "John" will only cause further injury. However, lifting up the front and dragging him out from under the tire is likely to injure him more, as well. It's generally a bad idea to carelessly move injured people.

A couple men, including the driver, move to the front bumper of the car, to try and lift it. One of them almost accidentally kicks "John" in the face, but he doesn't even blink at the foot that's right in front of him.

The only visible sign "John" isn't dead is the fact he's breathing, because otherwise he looks like death with his emaciated body, extremely pale skin, and unseeing green eyes. Bruce briefly checks to confirm "John" has a pulse on his radial artery of his right wrist, since his left arm is still pinned under the car with his knees. He skips checking the man's heartbeat for now.

"We're going to help you, okay?" Bruce tells "John", even though he's almost certain he won't get a response.

Unfortunately, Bruce doesn't have a stretcher with him at the moment, and simply picking John up without one could worsen whatever injuries he undoubtedly has.

It's not a perfect solution, but Bruce grabs a blanket from a stall, murmuring a quick apology and promise to return it, although the person is too busy watching to get annoyed. He lays spreads the blanket out by "John", hoping he won't cause further harm when transferring him to the makeshift stretcher. The men prepare to lift the front of car.

Before the men even begin to lift, "John" starts thrashing with a shocking amount of strength, considering how incredibly fragile he looks. Bruce's earlier assumption that he'd lacked the energy to try to escape is the crushing force is promptly proven incorrect.

"John" somehow manages to yank his left arm and knees out from where they'd been pinned under the car tire. There's no way he should have been able to do that, since the men hadn't started lifting it yet, so the weight of the car was pressing down on him from that tire. The car falls back onto all four wheels with a loud thump, the tire he'd been pinned under barely missing "John's" head by mere centimeters.

Bruce doesn't have much time to ponder the shocking feat of strength as "John" thrashes more, seeming to try and scramble to his feet, and almost seeming surprised that there's ground beneath him, and even more confused when he hits the underside of the car, like he's not really sure where he is. By the time Bruce has realized what's happening, the man is already sprinting- or more accurately, staggering- away on rather unsteady legs.

Bruce supposes that "John's" knees aren't broken, or he wouldn't be able to do what he's doing now. How is he able to run, or wriggle from under the tire? How are his knees not broken?

He doesn't get very far, or even seem aware of obstacles in his way. Bruce watches as John runs blindly through a crowd and collapses against a building.

Bruce hurries after him, and thankfully the stall he'd borrowed the blanket from is in the direction "John" had headed, so he wordlessly returns it while heading to the mysterious man.

When he reaches the slumped form, "John's" green eyes are as vacant as they were before. He doesn't react at all to Bruce approaching, but his chest is still heaving with quick, panicked breaths.

The unexpected fire of life- for the feat he just pulled should be called more than a spark- has died. Bruce isn't sure if he collapsed out of exhaustion, or if he's mentally checked out entirely. His mind seems very far away, and Bruce almost wonders if his sudden movement had actually been related to his situation under the tire, or something in his mind.

"John's" sudden spark of life had happened when Bruce was taking his pulse, but there's no enough data to tell if it was a coincidence or a response to Bruce's touch. No, that sounds like something out of a romance novel or fairy tale, someone magically waking up after being touched.

Bruce slowly reaches out to touch "John", gently prodding his left arm. It doesn't seem broken, although the weird gold armor is covering some of it. Maybe that had prevented a break? But his equally bone-thin knees aren't armored, and those don't seem broken either.

How did this man's bones not snap like twigs?

Bruce is starting to think maybe "John" doesn't need a trip to the hospital. Not really sure what else to do, he decides to take "John" to his own place. He'll probably be able to help more than most here, hence why he's making a living being an unofficial doctor.

He isn't really sure what he expected, but "John" doesn't react at all when Bruce gathers his bone-thin frame into a sort of fireman's carry. The onlookers have slowly started to turn away and move on as Bruce carries the man towards his home, which is only a few minutes' walk from where he'd found the man he's playing good samaritan for.

"Welcome to my humble abode." He says as he enters.

Bruce's home really isn't much. It's a tiny, one room apartment with a kitchen area shoved into one corner and a window that offers a view of side of the building on the other side of the street, which Bruce currently has covered with a pink cloth acting as a curtain. Bruce hasn't done much in terms of furniture- just a mattress on the floor (he decided not to spend money on a bed frame), a beat-up old couch, a small coffee table, and a rug.

He could be forced to leave at any moment and leave everything behind if he has another incident, so there's not really a point in having much. It's not like he could bring a bed frame with him, or a mattress. He actually has a sleeping bag for that very reason and hopes, if he does have to leave suddenly because the military finds him, he'll be himself instead of the Other Guy. He also has an emergency bag of clothes and cash.

Bruce has a few trinkets, gifts from some of his patients, that he's collected during his stay. He doesn't exactly have a lot of money to spare on decorations or even books.

He locks his door behind him- it's nice having a lock. Bruce had been robbed a few times before, especially when he slept in the streets. One time, a mugger had him at knifepoint and well, he'd been... discouraged from that endeavor when the Other Guy came out. Bruce isn't at all happy about that incident, both because of the violence from the Other Guy and because his pants tore when he Hulked out, so he lost all his money in them anyways.

"I'm Bruce. You don't really seem like a John, but you're not giving me anything else to work with, so..." He trails off with a twitch of his lips as he lays "John" down on the mattress. The couch is too short for the tall man, his legs would hang off the edge, so Bruce supposes he'll be sleeping on the couch himself for the foreseeable future.

"You are not at all dressed for the weather here." Bruce murmurs wryly to "John", in English. "John" continues to stare unseeingly at the crack in Bruce's ceiling, the brief spark of life totally gone. Bruce doesn't know if the man's hearing a word he's saying or not, but he acts as if he is. "What were you thinking? I'm not sure how you survived this heat in those until now."

Well, he's not sure how "John" survived a lot of things, namely severe emaciation and getting hit by a car. Plus the heat. There's no way that the poor guy should be wearing leather here, especially black leather since it absorbs even more light. He's already sweating like mad, possibly more than other people would in those clothes.

"I'm going to get you into something more appropriate for this heat, okay?" Bruce fetches a spare set of his own clothes, and briefly holds them up before the man's glassy green eyes. He's honestly not sure if "John" is at all aware of what's going on. He might be, and is simply unable to show it, or he could be totally oblivious. Anyways, it would be weird to not talk to him, as if he was a mannequin or something. "I'm going to need to take your clothes off, though. I'm not going to take them or sell them, I promise."

"John" doesn't even blink. Bruce sighs and decides to just change the man's clothes without consent, as the guy seems incapable of giving it.

Bruce finds himself fervently hoping that "John" won't suddenly become alert during the process, because that would be exceedingly awkward. Bruce wouldn't even blame "John" if he hit him in that situation. Coming to awareness when being undressed would lead to some very terrifying assumptions for anyone in that situation, things people really need to give consent about.

It's probable the Other Guy would come out if Bruce was unexpectedly punched, and an encounter with Bruce's big green alter ego certainly would set "John" back a few thousand miles on the road to recovery, if such an encounter didn't kill him entirely.

Bruce is starting to wonder if he made the right call here, bringing "John" into his home.

Thankfully, at least in that regard, John remains completely still and seemingly vacant when Bruce starts to try to liberate him of the stifling leather.

He quickly finds out it's not as easy as it looks. There are a _lot_ of buckles, straps and ties. And the golden bits of armor... Bruce isn't certain, but he has a feeling they're actually gold. Where on earth did this guy get so much actual gold?

The clothes are completely incongruous with "John's" deteriorated state, as is the fact that the clothes are clean (aside from smelling slightly like body odor) and pristine, whereas Bruce's own clothes- and those of most of the other people here- are somewhat ragged.

If the armor is indeed real gold, it would be enough for a small fortune, and even leather sells for a fair amount. "John" must have been pretty well off in order to buy the stuff he's wearing, unless he stole it.

Regardless, why hadn't "John" simply sold some of the armor to buy food, if he doesn't have the funds his clothes seem to indicate? Even the greediest person would trade their riches for food rather than starve to the point "John" is, since food is a more basic need.

This doesn't make any sense.

Also, these clothes are really heavy, especially the armor, so it's a bit of a shock "John" could walk in them, but then again Bruce still has no idea how he'd gotten out from under the car. Still, he clearly hadn't been able to go far. How was he wandering around Kolkata, especially in all this heavy leather and metal, in order to fall in front of the car? Why is he starved when he's dressed in something seemingly high-class?

Who _is_ this guy? That's the real question. Does he have family looking for him? Is he from around here? It doesn't seem like he is, judging from his clothes.

Finally, Bruce gets the heavy clothes off the poor guy, who thankfully is wearing undergarments, although they can't exactly be called _underwear,_ at least not like boxers or briefs (Bruce probably shouldn't be surprised that said undergarments are made of silk, but he is). "John's" emaciation is even more prominent now, all jutting bones and stick-thin limbs that had been hidden from sight by his leather outfit, although it had seemed quite big on him.

While "John" is stripped to his silk undergarments- Bruce certainly isn't going farther than that- Bruce briefly prods his ribs and knees. He somehow appears completely unscathed from being hit by a car and crushed by the wheel. He's not even bruised, somehow, and while he's sweaty, he's surprisingly clean, except for his greasy hair. If he was homeless, he'd probably be a bit dirtier.

"Well, you seem oddly indestructible." He comments and once again gets no response. Honestly, the fact that this guy evidently hasn't been injured by the ordeal makes him seem like Captain America or something. "What have you been up to?" It's almost a rhetorical question. He honestly can't imagine how this guy could be so malnourished, or why he'd be stumbling around Kolkata anyways. Although, according to the onlookers, he hadn't been walking down the street, and he would definitely stand out even in the crowded street, with his height, odd clothes, and current extreme gauntness.

Bruce shakes his head in bewilderment as he dresses the man.

Bruce's spare clothes don't fit "John" particularly well, especially the pants, since John has reallylong legs. But in terms of width, "John" is practically swimming in them. He looks more starved in Bruce's clothes than he had in his own leather ensemble, even though his odd clothes had hung off his painfully thin frame as well.

Bruce sets the man's clothes aside, still wondering about the golden pieces. Hopefully "John" won't sweat as much now he's in appropriate clothes.

Okay, now for food... Bruce still needs to eat himself, but he when he's bustling around his tiny dwelling, he's focused on trying to figure out how to feed his new... charge. Patient? _Guest_ isn't exactly the right word, even though Bruce technically brought "John" into his very modest home.

Bruce doesn't exactly have many options for food himself, and basically buys what he can afford after paying rent for this place. Plus he pays for any food he happens to feed his patients, and he honestly has more food there than here.

Eventually, he ends up making a variation of Jhal Muri, with rice, some onions and tomatoes, and a bit of seasoning, although not the type of one would find if buying it from a street vendor. For "John", he has a sort of broth made from some of the vegetables he hadn't used in his own food- given the guy's emaciation, his stomach would probably rebel if given too many solids at the moment, or possibly any solids whatsoever.

Lifting "John" up from the mattress once again makes Bruce realize how painfully light the man is as he moves him over to the couch, positioning him so he's sitting. At least "John" can be repositioned, instead of freezing up like a statue in an awkward pose like some catatonic people.

While he's not exactly unconscious, Bruce isn't entirely sure if "John" is aware enough to eat or if Bruce may have to try and acquire a nasogastric feeding tube somewhere.

Slowly, he spoons a bit of broth into John's mouth, feeding as one would with a baby (although Bruce obviously doesn't make airplane noises like most people do with small children. That would be ridiculous).

He holds his breath as "John" just sits there with the broth in his mouth, which at least stays closed rather than hanging open and spilling food everywhere. The rest of his body is so limp it wouldn't be surprising. For a while "John" doesn't make a move to swallow, as if he's not sure if there's really something in his mouth.

When he blinks, Bruce thinks it almost looks like he's savoring the broth, but he's probably just projecting that onto the man, since "John" still seems totally out of it. He hasn't even made a single sound yet, not even when he was scrambling from under the car's wheel.

Bruce is about to try and cup the man's jaw and move it in a chewing motion, wondering if that will spur him into the action of swallowing by association, when he sees "John's" throat twitch in a swallowing motion.

Bruce slowly feeds him more broth by the spoonful, being careful to watch and make sure he won't throw it all up, although it's hard to know if or when such a thing would happen. He makes pointless small talk to the man just to break the silence, telling him he's doing a good job and that he won't be starved anymore as long as Bruce can help it.

Bruce can't exactly promise safety, though.

Finally, Bruce finishes feeding him and turns to his own Jhal Muri, which has grown cold, and eats, studying his silent, still companion.

He'd seen a definite fire of life in "John" and hopes that wasn't a one-time occurrence. What could have happened to "John" to make him shut the world out like this? Bruce has a feeling it's more than just getting hit by a car. Right now, he's guessing it's somehow linked to "John's" starvation.

After washing the dishes and pots he'd used, periodically checking on "John", who hasn't moved at all, he moves "John" back to the mattress serving as a bed and covers him in a blanket.

Then, Bruce grabs a blanket for himself and turns out the light.

He's about to settle on the couch to sleep when he hears a keening, panicked noise of coming from the mattress on the other side of the room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Even I thought this story was abandoned for a while, but I guess not.**

Bruce turns on the light, and sees "John" trembling slightly, moan escaping his lips. It was timed remarkably well with Bruce turning the light off. Perhaps it was a coincidence?

Then, "John" slowly stops moaning, his trembles dying down once he's bathed in light. His green eyes stare at the flickering bulb as if it's a lifeline. That can't be good for his eyes. Bruce doesn't have any sunglasses to give him, unfortunately.

"You don't like the dark?" Bruce asks, not expecting an answer. "John" doesn't even look at him.

Bruce tries to turn the man's head to the side, so he's not staring at the light. "John" turns his head right back. Obviously he's not totally lost in his own mind, he's reacting to the environment around him. That's good.

"That's okay. I was terrified of the dark when I was a kid." Bruce continues. Well, "John" definitely isn't a child, but Bruce would be lying if he said there were some nights where the darkness didn't seem all-encompassing, seemed to swallow him up.

At night, Bruce is often troubled with thoughts of the Other Guy showing up, so sometimes he doesn't like the dark much either, just like he'd hated it as a kid.

"Okay, from now on, we sleep with the light on." Bruce says to his new companion, and lays down to sleep.

* * *

"John" doesn't exactly change Bruce's routine much.

He still goes to work, and he takes "John" with him. While he doesn't necessarily like the idea of exposing "John" to all the illnesses present in the clinic, he can't exactly let the man sit by himself in Bruce's apartment, either. He gives "John" a face mask to protect a bit from germs.

Lugging "John" around is pretty awkward. The guy is heavier than he looks- he looks like a pile of skin and bones- but he's a lot taller than Bruce and kind of unwieldy. Not to mention all the stares Bruce gets when carrying a tall, emaciated, unresponsive man. Bruce generally tries to avoid attention, and unfortunately, "John" attracts a lot of it.

Bruce basically treats the man as another patient. Well, that's pretty much what he is, except unlike Bruce's other patients, "John" lives with him.

One little boy named Arjun takes a particular interest to "John". The boy is clutching a toy dalmatian dressed in a sharp red shirt and black pants. The toy is missing its left arm, and the spot paint job on its head and three remaining limbs is chipped and cracked.

Arjun shows "John" the toy with pride. "John" listens with about as much of a reaction as the toy dog does when the boy talks to that, but the boy doesn't seem to mind.

Bruce also catches Arjun playing with "John's" long hair, and the boy explains he's practicing for his sister. Bruce sighs and sends the boy to rest, because he needs to heal and shouldn't be standing behind "John."

So while Bruce spends the day treating people, "John" spends the day slumped against the wall or lying on a mattress. "John's" green eyes and face remain completely blank as he stares vacantly into space.

Bruce has seen proof of "John" being aware of his surroundings. He reacted to being hit by a car, and he looks at the light sometimes, but most of the time, "John" acts like a life-size doll that Bruce cares for. Bruce thinks of those dolls people make that really eat and wet themselves. He could never fathom why anybody would buy their kid such a thing.

"John" is sort of like that, except he's a real person. He gives off the impression of being an empty shell most of the time, but he's not. There's got to be stuff going on in that mind.

* * *

Bruce almost jumps out of his skin the first time "John" starts shouting, almost right in Bruce's face, since Bruce is about to start feeding "John". He has to take a few deep breaths to fight down the Other Guy from the shock.

"John" is thrashing, shouting incoherently. He's clearly lost in his own mind, and doesn't even hear Bruce when he tries to calm him down. Bruce cautiously lays a hand on his shoulder, and quickly learns not to touch him during these episodes, although "John" never reacts to being touched at any other time.

As if the emaciation wasn't bad enough, it's clear from this that "John" has been through something horrible.

"It's okay, you're safe now." Bruce says, abandoning the task of feeding the man. He waits, speaking soft words, until "John" finally quiets down.

* * *

"John' makes progress. He actually gains weight extraordinarily quickly, much quicker than Bruce thought possible. He's still quite skinny, but no longer looks like a skeleton with skin stretched over it.

Bruce can position "John's" limbs, rather like a doll. Bruce tries putting him in a chair once, since he's been able to position "John's" limbs recently, but "John" just ends up falling over, obviously having so little control of his muscles that he can't even sit up. Which is strange, because he had managed to run a few steps when freed from under the car, although Bruce has no idea how the man accomplished that in his state.

Some nights, Bruce and "John" don't go home. If Bruce has an overnight patient other than "John", they'll stay in the clinic.

"John" actually starts looking at things for short periods of time before his eyes glaze over once again. But as the days go by, the time spent watching his surroundings increases. He seems to watch a little girl at the clinic, and his eyes track the spoon Bruce is feeding him with once. And, of course, he looks at the light.

Yet he'd reacted to being pinned under the car, and has reacted to something in his own head, it seems. At least, his reactions don't really seem to fit what's going on around him.

Bruce smiles the first time "John" looks directly at him.

* * *

Despite making progress, some problems persist. The incoherent shouting happens often. Several children cry in fear when "John" starts screaming and thrashing in the clinic, even though it's not exactly uncommon to hear screams or moans there. Arjun just says that "John" is having bad dreams, and watches, hugging his dog. Bruce has seen the boy wake up with nightmares, so Arjun clearly understands.

The screaming is particularly bad when it wakes Bruce in the middle of the night, and he's halfway to letting the Other Guy out before he realizes what's going on and forces the monster back down.

Bruce starts to wonder if he should be caring for "John".

Well, someone has to, the man would certainly die on his own, although somehow he survived up until Bruce found him. And survived being hit by a car. But he wouldn't have been able to eat on his own, so surely he would have wasted away.

But maybe it shouldn't be Bruce caring for him. After all, the Other Guy almost came out.

If the Other Guy comes out, Bruce's new companion "John" would be in terrible danger. He's even more helpless than a baby in his current catatonic state, although somehow he's a lot more durable than most healthy people, let alone his emaciated state. Bruce still has no idea how the man, as fragile looking as he is, escaped from under a car tire.

Unless "John" has super-strength and durability like Captain America once did, he probably wouldn't be able to survive the Other Guy's rage.

Wouldn't that be something, if "John"- or someone he knew- somehow managed to recreate Erksine's super-soldier serum. When Bruce tried, he created the Other Guy...

The Other Guy grumbles slightly in Bruce's mind whenever Bruce thinks about his alter-ego, but doesn't try to push towards the surface.

Even if the Other Guy wasn't a danger, things are still complicated.

Bruce could be forced to flee (yet again, because of the Other Guy) at any time, if the government ever catches up to him. He's not delusional, surely he's still being hunted. The fact that he's gone a whole hundred and seventy days is huge relief, but what if it doesn't last?

Traveling with "John" in his catatonic state would make everything more difficult.

Plus there's still the risk of the Other Guy.

Yet, as pathetic as it sounds, "John" is almost the best company that Bruce has had in all the time he's been on the run. Bruce has been telling his silent companion about, well, anything, really. Sometimes he talks about Culver University, and once slips and mentions the Other Guy.

Bruce shakes his head. He's treating his silent companion like some kind of therapy doll. How sad is that?

But "John" actually seems to be listening, even when he's not looking at Bruce. Or maybe that's just Bruce imagining things? And it's so nice to have someone to talk to.

He's being selfish. He should get the man as far away from him and the Other Guy as possible, and yet he doesn't.

* * *

Bruce is at a loss for how a piece of "John's" armor ended up in the man's hands. It had been tucked away under Bruce's bed. Granted, if someone broke into Bruce's apartment, they'd probably find it anyways, but it was at least better than leaving what seems to be solid gold out in the open.

He still has no idea where "John" got solid gold, but right now he's wondering how the armor got into his hands. There isn't enough space between the bed and the wall to reach down to grab it. "John" would have had to climb out of bed, get on the floor, grab it, and climb back into bed.

"John" certainly can't do that in his current state, but then again, it's not like the armor could have jumped to his hand.

Thankfully he lets Bruce take it from him and put it back under the bed. If they'd gone out with that in his hand, they would have certainly been robbed.

Either that, or the robber would be very sorry once the Other Guy came out.

* * *

On the fifth day, Bruce hears "John's" voice for the first time. His real voice, not just screaming, although it's quite hoarse.

The man still seems lost in his mind as he mutters bitterly to himself in a hoarse British accent. It's so quiet Bruce can't really make out the words, but he thinks he hears the word _monster._

"Well, you've got a monster right here, buddy." Bruce mutters with a sardonic smile. "You haven't seen him yet, but trust me, you won't want to hang around when you do."

Nobody does, after all.

For a second, "John" looks at Bruce when he says that, and Bruce swears he sees confusion or sympathy in the man's eyes, but when he looks again, the man seems to be staring past Bruce.

He really needs to stop projecting on the man.

"Don't go," Bruce tells him, but the man's already staring through Bruce at the wall.

* * *

"John" keeps ranting to himself over the next several days, but most of it doesn't make sense. Monsters, blue monsters, come up a lot.

Bruce doesn't know what these blue monsters are. Is "John" hallucinating in his head? Is he reliving something from his past? What on earth are blue monsters, anyways? Sharks? There's something about giants in one of his ramblings, too. Maybe the Other Guy could be considered a giant, but "John" hasn't seen him. Thankfully.

Sometimes "John" rants about other things. A prince and a king come up several times, and it seems "John" thinks he should have been king.

He always seems unaware of his surroundings when he rants or screams, but he spends more and more time watching things, taking things in. He watches Arjun talk to him.

"John" still hasn't spoken a word outside his baffling ramblings.

He keeps building up strength. He can sit up unassisted now.

"John" takes the spoon from Bruce's hand once and tries to feed himself. At first, he dumps the contents, so Bruce takes "John's" hand in his and guides the spoon to his mouth with "John" still clutching it.

Being fed like a baby when one is a grown man has to be humiliating, Bruce realizes.

After several repetitions of having his hand guided, "John" successfully brings the spoon to his own mouth. Bruce smiles at him. He looks rather thrilled about this bit of autonomy.

* * *

Since "John" can now sit up and feed himself, Bruce tries to get him walking. After all, even when he first showed up, he somehow ran when released from the car.

"John" is unsteady at first, like a baby taking its first steps. Bruce doesn't know how "John" got to the street where they'd crossed paths in the first place. He's starting to wonder if the people who claimed the man appeared out of nowhere are getting at something.

"John" starts being able to walk more and more. He walks across Bruce's apartment, although that's really not far at all. Eventually he crosses the clinic.

When Arjun is having a bad dream, "John" goes to him and smoothing the boy's hair down with a pale, long-fingered hand. He hums something almost like a lullaby, gazing down at the child.

And then, on the tenth day since Bruce found him, as they're walking to the clinic, "John" looks at Bruce and asks, in a perfectly clear British accent drected totally at Bruce, "What realm is this?"

 **Arjun's toy dog is a toy I bought last week. I named him Barky Barnes, but he's not named that in this.**


End file.
